


i've got your back like we're still seventeen

by nymeriahale



Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymeriahale/pseuds/nymeriahale
Summary: “Alright alright, leave off!” Wilson shouts. “What are you, in love with him?”“Yeah, actually, so fuck off!” Owen hears himself yell.Oops.





	i've got your back like we're still seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 17 by MK.

Owen’s hyped for the match when he heads back down the tunnel - Scotland at Murrayfield is always tough but the team are on fire, fought through a tough match against Wales last time out, and he has no doubt they’ll do it again. He sees George a few people in front of him and speeds his pace to catch up. Then he sees Ryan Wilson, getting in George’s space, clearly trash talking him. George isn’t reacting, walking calmly back to locker room like he’s not even aware of the forward looming over him. Owen, for a moment, considers leaving them to it - no good can come of his involvement, trash talk is just part of the game. 

Then he hears it.

“You ready for this, gay boy?”

It’s not inventive, it’s not even a slur. There’s no hitch in George’s step as he keep walking forwards, but his head ducks.

Owen sees red - he launches forwards, pushing past England and Scotland players alike, until he can get his fists in Wilson’s jersey and shove him back, away from George, until his back hits a wall. George keeps on walking.

Owen is yelling, incoherent, not even sure what he’s saying as more and more hands pile in, trying to pull the two of them apart.

“Alright alright, leave off!” Wilson shouts. “What are you, in love with him?”

Owen, once again, sees red. He’s violently attacking the man for homophobia and the asshole thinks the way to get him to lay off is to imply that Owen might be queer also? What a fucking idiot. 

“Yeah, actually, so fuck off!” Owen hears himself yell. 

Oops.

Owen feels like it should go silent after his words, but it doesn’t. Wilson does look shocked, but he keep trying to shove Owen away, and there are still more hands raining down on them. George stops walking, though, and Owen keeps his eyes on his reaction.

George turns, expression carefully guarded, and walks the couple of steps back to Owen. “Enough, let’s get ready,” he says in a normal tone, one Owen hears clearly below the rest of the wordless shouting. 

Owen can’t tell what expression George is guarding, but he lets go of Wilson’s jersey easily at his request. Owen’s sudden lack of resistance means he’s pulled away pretty hard, and by the time Owen has found his feet again George has half turned away. He tilts his head, inviting Owen to follow him, and heads straight to the changing rooms.

“Fuck you,” Owen sneers at Wilson, for good measure, then has to push his way through the mass of people surrounding them to follow George.

No one talks to him on the way into the changing rooms, though he’s aware he’s being followed closely.

He follows George in the door, follows him to stand in front of his stall. George finally turns around, so they’re face to face again, barely a foot apart.

Owen isn’t sure what to do now. George is out - hence the harassment - but Owen isn’t, and only their close friends and family know about their relationship. They could try to laugh it off, play it down. Owen would almost say ‘deny’, but he can see the news spreading over George’s shoulder as they stand there - it hadn’t been chaotic enough for that. 

And... they’ve never said ‘I love you’ to each other before. It’s been long enough, Owen is pretty sure it’s serious, but is George that serious, yet? He doesn’t know.

Owen tries a self deprecating, rueful, smile.

George shakes his head, his shoulders relaxing and a reluctant smile twitching onto his face.

“You're an idiot,” George says, fonder than Owen has ever heard him in public.

“Wilson's an idiot,” Owen shoots back, stepping in that touch closer. It has to be his decision, if they're doing this. He's the one who's not out - but he doesn't care, not now, doesn’t think he will later either. He’d told George that he loved him - kind of - and George is smiling. Not much else matters.

George takes Owen’s approach as the permission it is. He reaches up to take Owen’s face in his hands, pulls him down for a brief closed mouth kiss. 

The murmuring from the locker room behind them drops in volume, picks up again when they part.

“I love you too,” George says, his voice sure.

“Even though I'm an idiot?” Owen teases.

George rolls his eyes. “Even though you're an idiot, who I have to rescue,” he agrees.

“I had him,” Owen scoffs - as Eddie Jones steps into the room.

“Owen,” Eddie scolds, sharp, clearly having heard him. 

Owen instinctively takes a step back from George, dropping his hands from George's waist, but George takes up a grip on Owen’s hip so Owen ends up standing at his side.

“What was all that about?” Eddie demands.

“Wilson’s a homophobic prick,” George states calmly, raising an eyebrow and failing to move even an inch from Owen’s side. 

Eddie looks between the two of them, the way they’re standing. “We'll discuss this after the match, when it won't be a distraction,” he says, a touch less severely. It’s still rather sharply pointed.

Owen leans in close to speak in George’s ear as Eddie gathers up the troops, takes their attention from Owen and George. “Rescuing me again,” he murmurs.

“You're hard work,” George replies, but the eye roll is fond.

“But you love me,” Owen reminds him.

“I love you,” George agrees, “but you're on your own with him afterwards.”

Owen thinks he should worry, maybe, but can't quite bring himself to. George loves him. George loves him and Owen _may_ have assaulted another player, off the pitch, but he was being homophobic, everyone heard, so he should be safe from repercussions. And George loves him. Nothing else can touch him, knowing that.

**Author's Note:**

> Bank holiday Monday bonus fic take two! I was always going to write something about [this moment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cw6VNmmx-Pg) pre-Calcutta Cup, thought I might as well get it out now. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
